Soft Rains
by The Draigg
Summary: When humanity fell to it's own recklessness, only one being is left to witness the twilight of Remnant. One-shot, inspired by Ray Bradbury's "There Will Come Soft Rains". Edited by Falcyon.


Soft Rains

The girl nearly tripped over the piece of rubble.

Stumbling among the shredded pile of wood and bricks, she managed to regain her footing. Looking down, she tried to see what she had nearly fallen over. It was a chunk of concrete. Much like the rest of the rubble in the city, it had come from a building which had once proudly stood here. All that was here now was ruins, bearing no resemblance to what had once stood here.

Dusting off her dark-green leggings, the girl kept on her way.

She had been walking for a long while now. It was hard to tell how long exactly. She had spent so much time buried under asphalt and steel, she didn't know how many days had passed so far. At her closest estimate, it was at least two weeks since she had pulled herself from the debris-laden hole she had fallen into. Even that was hard to tell, given that the sun still hadn't come from behind the ashen clouds.

That was what existed here now, in what used to be Vale City. What once were tall buildings of architectural wonder, were now heaps of rubble. Only a few walls and smaller buildings remained standing, as a testament to the millions of people who had once lived in the city.

She walked along further and further down the street, a long way from the field of rubble that she had come from. By now, she figured that she was quite a bit away from the city center. She had to be. But, it was hard to tell, without any familiar buildings serving as landmarks. From the looks of it, she had wandered into a residential area a little ways out of downtown. The long cinder-block wall that lined one side of the street was a good indicator of this.

The girl began to run her hand against the wall, feeling the cool mortar underneath her fingers. At least, that's what her sensors were telling her she was feeling. Being the way she was, the girl couldn't ever truly feel anything. Pulling her hand away, she paused to examine the small layer of ash on her fingertips. This must have been the dust knocked into the air by the blast. That dust still lingered in the air, even high in the atmosphere. It had managed to block out the sun's rays for as long as she had been walking. If anyone was still around other than her, then they too wouldn't have seen the sun for quite a while.

The girl sighed to herself, then kept on walking.

Rounding the corner at the edge of the wall, she turned left. There, she was confronted by something that she didn't want to see. It was something that would burn itself in the mind of a person, no matter how much they could try to block it out.

It was people, or at least the last visage of them. Their shadows were captured on the wall, as if they were some sick kind of photography. A moment in time, caught permanently on that surface. The last moments of all those people's lives.

She saw shadows of people desperately trying to flee from something. She saw shadows pressed against the wall, as if they were cornered by fear and couldn't move. And, from what she could tell, there was one shadow that looked like it was hunched over, trying to protect something in a small bundle. That person's sacrifice to shield that bundle was ultimately pointless.

The girl averted her eyes from the perverse mural. She didn't need to think about all those people. Sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, children and siblings. Maybe, if they were still around, they could have been friends with the girl. None of that really matter anymore. They were gone, and that was that. The only thing that remained of them was the captured moment of time. It was a shame those images were of sheer terror, instead of something nicer.

Averting her eyes away from the wall, the girl kept on walking. There was nothing she wanted to see there anymore. Instead, she leveled her gaze over at the far distance. Since the taller buildings had been destroyed for the most part, the view of the former Beacon Academy was clearer.

Not that there was much to see.

Beacon Academy was once the guardian of light and hope in the world. The proud hunters and huntresses who trained there had vowed to protect the world from the approaching darkness of the Grimm. Too bad they couldn't protect the world from humanity's own stupidity.

The girl had no idea why or how this happened. Maybe it was some last-ditch attempt to eliminate all of the race of Grimm. Or maybe it was a careless mistake on someone's or something's part. Whatever the reasons were, they hardly mattered to the victims who remained. If there were any left.

From what the girl saw, the spires that once marked the castle on the cliff were now destroyed. It was hard to tell from this distance, but she could definitely tell that Beacon wasn't spared at all by the incident. As far as the girl knew, the ruins of the school now served as the tomb of those who wanted to give up their tomorrow for humanity's today. The final resting place of her friends there was the place where all of them so desperately wanted to get into.

It was sad that their tomb wasn't a place of honor anymore. No great deed was commemorated there, and there was nothing of value left. The only thing that remained was something harmful, something poisonous. All that was left was something utterly repulsive.

Irony was the only way to describe it all. Irony was what defined this whole waking nightmare. It was ironic that harnessing the power of one of the building-blocks of the universe was what led civilization to it's downfall. It was ironic that the people who put their lives on the line for the kingdoms either died by immediate incineration, or the agonizing poisoning that ravaged their bodies if they somehow managed to live through the event.

At least those who died no longer had to deal with the horrors of living in such a world. That was a small, if bitter comfort.

The girl could not afford that comfort.

Maybe, if she eventually shut down due to malfunction or disrepair, it would be something similar. But then, she wouldn't truly die. She would just enter her sleep setting. It would be a long nap, but not death. She would remain that way until she completely destroyed, or if her energy stores ran out, even if they were set to save as much power as possible. It wasn't a fate that she would wish on anyone else. The girl was doomed to live a long, long time.

The girl reflected on this fate as she walked. It was like she was the guardian of the tomb of humanity. A lonely life, to be sure, but one that was necessary. If she still remembered who humanity was and what they accomplished, then they never truly died. She was the keeper of dead knowledge now. If anyone else was alive in Vale City, then she would be able to share that burden. But, that was rather unlikely. The city was ruined almost unexpectedly. People only had time to run a short distance before poisonous fire rained down on their heads. And anyone else alive would have left the rubble of their former home for somewhere else, in a last bid to live.

As far as the girl was concerned, she was completely alone. She wished that she had her friends with her right now, to banish that thought away. Blonde, black, white, and auburn. She still remembered their hair colors easily. The girl held onto that though, as if fearing that it would fade away if she didn't focus on it. She wished that they had lived. It was an unanswered wish. She admitted to herself that chances were they were just as dead as the rest of Vale City.

Looking up, the girl tried to guess what time it was. From what she could tell, the light that was trying to break through the ashen barrier was growing darker. She had better find shelter soon. It was risky to stay out in the open at night. A creature of Grimm could come by and rip her apart.

The girl briefly considered that maybe it was a good thing to let a Grimm destroy her. But, she inwardly scolded herself for thinking such a thing. She had to live, to keep the memory of her former friends alive. Otherwise, they would die again.

Thankfully, the girl spotted a mostly intact shelter. It was a small residence, with the garage destroyed by a fallen tree. But, other than that, the house would be more than serviceable as a place to stay for the night.

The girl approached the house, her shoes clattering on the stone walkway. However, she stopped at the door. She needed to check if someone was still alive in there, no matter how unlikely that may be. Taking the door knocker in her hand, the girl rapped her hand against the door three times. There was no response.

That confirmed it for the girl. There was no one alive left in the house. And, if they were, then they were in no state to be answering the door. Placing her hand on the doorknob, the girl twisted it. The door was unlocked, and it swung open easily.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the house. Even if the house looked damaged on the outside, the interior was relatively in better shape. Glass from shattered windows littered the floor, alongside items that had fallen from their respective positions. Picture frames and other decorations lay shattered on the floor.

The girl didn't bother to close the door as she walked further into the house. Passing by a closet and the doorway leading into a kitchen, the girl stepped into the living room. It was still as damaged as the rest of the house. There was even more broken glass on the floor from the destroyed screen door.

Her curiosity aroused, the girl decided to investigate the small backyard. She immediately regretted it once she saw what was back there.

Right next to the small dog house, clutching the remains of a garden hose and surrounded by destroyed water bottles, was the remains of a man. He was sprawled out on remains of the lawn, face down.

The girl averted her eyes from the sight. It only served to twist in the knife of loneliness and sorrow even further. She had preferred when she didn't have to see the corpse of what once was a living, breathing person. A person who had feelings, and a person who could have lived, if not for the calamity that had befallen the world.

She couldn't leave the body like this. Trying her best not to look, the girl grabbed the body by the tattered remains of its plaid shirt and dragged it to a far corner. She noticed the glasses the man was wearing slip off, but she didn't bother to put them back on him. Once that was done, she looked around to find something to cover the body. Finding nothing, the girl walked back inside. Maybe there was something in there she could use.

The girl scanned over the living room. On the couch was a throw blanket draped over the back. That would do. Grabbing the sheet, the girl brought it back outside.

The body was covered with the blanket, an impromptu burial shroud. It was the best the girl could do for now. She tried her best to be respectful, that that was hard to do with what she had at hand. She couldn't have possibly dug a grave while what little light was out remained.

Walking back inside the house, the girl calmly sat on the couch. From what she had seen of the house, it was perfectly average. A useless television sat in the corner, and she was directly faced by a decent sized fireplace. Looking down, the girl saw that a painting had fallen off from the mantle. For some reason, that bothered her more than the picture frames on the ground.

Standing up, she picked up the painting and placed it back into its rightful place. It was a rather nice painting, if a little mundane. It was of a forest landscape, looking at a rocky riverbed. Some water was babbling through the rocks in a small stream. On the horizon of the painting was a rain shower.

How nice it would be to have some clean rain.

The rain would at least clean the air of the toxins that lingered. Yet again, it would send it right into the ground, poisoning it even further. Still, it would at least be preferable to the grey, lifeless sky that had been hanging overhead. Rain would be something different, at least.

The girl couldn't help but keep on staring at the painting. She tried to imagine herself in the picture, standing right next to the stream. She tried to think about the sounds of the flowing river, and of the birds and woodland creatures tweeting and chirping. It would be a nice, relaxing place to go.

The girl was pulled out of her thoughts by a sudden noise. Looking for the source of the noise, she eventually traced it back towards the front door. Getting up, the girl made her way towards the door that she had left open.

On the threshold of the door lied a dog. It was a small, wretched thing. Its fur only remained in occasional clumps, and large burns and boils covered as much flesh as it could. Its breath was wheezing, rattling. This dog clearly didn't have a long time to live.

However, this was the first living thing that the girl had seen in her travels around the city. She couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and pity upon seeing the creature.

"Salutations…" the girl whispered to the dog. It didn't respond in any noticeable way.

The girl crouched down to pick up the dog. It didn't resist as she cradled it in her arms and looked outside.

It dawned on her that she must have been lost in thought for a while. It was much darker outside now than it was when she arrived at the house. Hours, at the very least. But, that thought was dampened by the fact that the girl now had company.

Carrying the dog inside with her, the girl lied down on the couch. The dog remained curled up at her stomach, still breathing heavily. The girl couldn't blame the poor thing. It must have been in so much pain.

Then, a sudden thought hit her. There was a dog house in the backyard. Putting the pieces together, the girl realized that the dog had come back to its home. Reaching over, she checked the collar that was hanging limply from the dog's throat. Grabbing the tag on the collar, she read the dog's name. Its name was Silver, apparently. If it was in reference to the color of the dog's fur, that was hard to tell. The remaining patches of fur were covered in dried blood and dirt. The dog's fur wasn't silver anymore.

Letting go, the girl curled up around the dog. She needed to save her energy, and staying up into the night was a poor idea. She closed her eyes, and set her internal timer to wake up in nine hours.

The girl's vision fizzled out as she entered her sleep state. As she drifted from the barely-living world, she could still feel the dog breathing against her.

 **xxx**

The timer worked as it should have. The girl woke up exactly nine hours later. Picking up her head, she looked out the shattered screen door. It was lighter outside that much could be said. Then, remembering her companion for the night, she looked down at the dog.

It wasn't breathing.

Bolting up on the couch, the girl put the dog in her lap. Running her hands over it, she searched for any signs of life from the dog. But, her worst fears were confirmed. It must have died while she had shut down for the night.

Placing the dog back down onto the couch, the girl gave it a gentle stroke on the head. Its coarse fur came out and stuck to her hand. The girl briefly stared at the fur on her hand. What a horrible death, to have your body riddled by that type of poisoning. Wiping her hand clean, the girl then closed the dog's mouth, which was hanging open.

The girl wanted to cry. She wanted to scream and beg for someone, anyone to bring the dog back. To bring her friends back. But, she knew that it would do no good. Humanity had made the decision only a god had the right to do. They took the lives of everyone, regardless of who they were.

Standing slowly up, the girl looked outside, at the yard. She could see that the man underneath the sheet remained undisturbed. Then, the girl followed her vision back to the dead dog. She knew what she had to do.

Softly taking the dog's body into her arms, she cradled her companion against her chest. She was about to walk outside, when she heard something break under her foot. Looking down, she saw it was another picture frame. It was of the man and his dog, in what must have been better times. The man was handsome and clean shaven, his glasses balanced on his straight nose. The dog had its tongue out, and it was slobbering all over itself. The girl regretted not being able to see them in a time where she could have known them.

Hardening her resolve, the girl walked outside. When she found herself in front of the covered man, she had a hard time lifting up the blanket. She didn't want to acknowledge the cruel reality that had fallen onto this man and his dog.

The girl swallowed her resolve and picked up a corner of the blanket. She didn't pick it up all the way. She didn't want to see that man's face.

With her other hand, she placed down the corpse of the small dog. The girl nudged it against the man's leg. If one was to look at it, it would almost appear as if the pet was sleeping against its master.

The girl let the blanket fall on the corpses. There was nothing more she could do for the pair. There was nothing that could be done for anybody anymore. She clenched her fists as she looked at the bulges under the blanket. It just wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all.

Her business in this house was done.

The girl couldn't stand to stay in that house anymore. Not after what she saw there. She would just have to look for shelter somewhere else. Maybe outside the city. Or, maybe where things were still alive and well, like that forest in the painting.

She didn't want to admit that her thoughts were just pipe-dreams.

As some light continued to filter through the ashen layer up in the sky, the girl stepped over the threshold of the front door. She didn't even look back as she kept on walking, farther and farther away from the house, away from the last bit of life she had seen.

The girl walked and walked down the street. It didn't matter where. Anywhere else would be assuredly the same. But, that was the only real thing the girl had left to do.

The girl made not sure to trip over the pile of rubble in the road. She didn't need to fall over what was left of mankind's legacy.


End file.
